Weekday-Sequel of Weekend
by xXxIntoTheDarknessxXx
Summary: What are Tony and Maxxie doing now? Two months after Weekend . If you haven't read weekend, you won't completely understand. Trigger: Self harm. Warning: Sexual content, swearing, drugs, booze, cigarettes. Written for KoorimeChick
1. Chapter 1

Weekdays-The Sequel Of Weekend.

_Shit. FUCK. This is SO not where I want to be right now. _ At Tony's. Making out with and undressing TONY. 'Why am I doing this again with you? I HATE you Tony, for what you did to me. Making me tell Chris like that.' I say between hot little kisses. Fuck me and my inability to resist the straight little fucker. Or maybe not so straight now.

'It didn't end too badly, did it? I mean, I was never really going to tell him. Did it ever occured to your gay little brain that all I wanted was to talk to you, spend time with you..do this with you?' He asks, at which point he rips off my shirt.  
'Not too badly? He drank himself out of it for three days. Didn't even take any drugs or anything. You call that not too badly? I was terrified. I thought you were going to tell him. I believed you, you bastard. You're the one who didn't want to be public and get called my boyfriend.' I rip his shirt off in reply. Tony was silent for a minute. Ha, no answer, you prick?

'I always wanted to be with you, you know that, right? Fuck, you're hot.' Tony unbuckles my belt, pulls down my jeans.

'And you're a bastard. A fucking cute bastard, but a bastard all the same.' I unbuckle his, but pull his jeans right off. We move to his bed, leaving a trail of clothing up the stairs and down the hallway.

'I was a scared bastard. And no-one's ever really seen me scared, so don't say anything.' Tony begs. I file that little piece of information under 'Revenge if needed.' Afterall, Tony had put me in a horrible position with Chris a couple of months ago, and I was worried I'd need to return the favor.

'Sure. Where's the condom?' I ask semi-distracted.

'Top drawer. I'll get it. You stay there, and take them off.' He cheekily snaps the waisband of my briefs. I throw on the covers and after a moment of hesitation I rip them off, and throw them to the floor. Tony crawls in back under the covers and leans on his arms above me. I grin, grab his face and kiss him, then take the wrapper from his hand, rip it open and roll the condom onto his hardness. God knows I'll probably go to pieces again later. *He* is an ever re-occurring thought since me and Tony hooked up that weekend. Not that I've done anything with anyone since, mind you. It's really fucked with me.

'Max?' Tony shocked me out of my thoughts.  
'What? Sorry.' I respond, pushing the thought to the back of my mind. We resume where we (read I) left off, with hands, mouths, and skin..

When the both of us are finished (read fucked), and we're in a familiar position wrapped in each other's arms in the dark, I ask him what he wants from me this time, 'A quick fuck? Something long term?' He smirks in the moonlit patch of the bed.  
'Friend with benefits.'

'Fuck you, Tony fucking Stonem. Why did I agree to this? Why did I go along with it?' Strangely enough, that's a question I've asked myself before, a very long time ago, a time I've tried to run from, to never go back to, but one that follows me around in my head.  
'Because I'm the best fuck you've ever had. Or ever will.' The smartarse replies.  
'The only.' I confess. Fuck. Didn't mean for that to slip out. He pulls me in closer for a cuddle and kisses my head. Then he whispers 'Seriously?'

I snap. 'Yes, really, Tony. I haven't been stupid enough to get high or drunk without Cris there so I don't make THAT mistake again.'  
'Is that because of-' Tony begins.  
'Stop Tony. I'm not talking about this. It's just going to end up the same. We fuck, I turn into an emotional mess, you comfort me, you suck me right into your games then you leave and who gives a shit how I feel? I'm leaving. So you can just fuck off, alright? I'm fucked up enough as it is. The only reason I made it through the last weekend is because I spent most of it high, so get lost.' I say, as I get out of bed, throw on my clothes and turn to leave.  
'It's different this time, I swear, Max. Come on. Come back to bed, and we'll sort it all out.' Tony pleads. And, fuck me, I give in. Just. Like. That.  
Fuck.

I lose all resolve, strip down to my underwear, and crawl back into his bed, his arms. _This is such a bad idea, _I tell myself. But somehow, in that bastard's arms, I can't seem to care much. 'Since that weekend, it's all been fucking with me. So I haven't done booze or drugs unless Chris was around to stop me doing something stupid. And this really hasn't helped, Tone.' I take a smoke from his bedside, put it to my lips and grab a lighter as well, flicking the flint and holding the flame to the smoke, inhaling as it went. I then realise all the time I haven't worn my shirt exposes my scars for the bastard to see. I panic for a moment, and my hand flies to my forearm, where months of burn marks are still healing or scarred. Stupidly, I used that hand to take my smoke off my lips to hand it to Tony. He gasps.

'Jesus Christ, Maxxie. What the fuck have you done to yourself?' he asks, shocked to learn that my past is not my only problem; that it's created many others. Self harm being one of those. 'I put on a frock and went on a date with a girl. What do you think I did?' I snap, not for the first time that night. 'Fuck, Max. Why?' He fingers the scars, kisses my head and waits patiently for me to explain.  
'Because I'm fucked up. It's the prime example of why we shouldn't be doing this, Tone.' My voice is quiet. 'He moved in next door, so now I can't get away from him. So, I do something about what I feel. I take it out on myself. I punish myself for not leaving sooner, for not saying anything.'  
'Max...' Tony begins.  
'Don't, Tone, please.' I say, turning over and putting out the smoke in his ashtray. I curl up and shut my eyes. Within a minute, Tony has curled up behind me and has his arm around me. 'Goodnight, boyfriend.'  
'Don't use that fucking word.' I mumble.  
'Whatever, Max, you'll change your mind.' I ignore him and fall asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Weekdays Chapter 2  
A/N My personal laptop snuffed it and I forgot I had my school laptop...it's crappy, but a writer's gotta do what a writer's gotta do. Plus, I know my tense is out, but I think it doesn't sound completely shit and I've got too much going on to care right now.

'So, remind me what possessed you to do that again?' Tony interrogates me as we sit on the green smoking spliff before class the next Monday morning. He is, of course, talking about the burns on my arm. 'The prick moved in next door. I've already told you that, why are you dragging it up again?' But before I can finish, I hear Chris speak behind me. 'Who moved in next door, Max? Some new guy to fuck?' I see the sadistic smile spread across Tony's face. Bastard. You knew he was coming up behind me. You fucked with me again! I voice as much angrily, then turn to Chris and suggest we leave, take off somewhere to go get high or drunk.

'Deja fucking Vu.' Chris says, in a shocked and unbelieving tone as we cross the green and walk in the general direction of the pub. 'Not again Max. You wait until that fucking shite makes you tell me something before you talk to me about it. That really fuckin' hurts you know Max. You're my brother.' I felt really shit when I realised he was right. I never tried to do that, I always wanted to tell him; but he always took it so hard and felt like he'd let me down. I said as much but he laughed it off and told me to come back to his apartment so we could talk.

'Talk to me Max.' Chris begins as he lets us into the room. 'Want a smoke?' He hands the pack out to me. I take one, light it up, and fall back onto the bed, as all the air and smoke leaves my lungs. I sat up against the wall as he lit up and sat beside me. I told him all about my brand new neighbour, that last night with Tony, how he tricked me-twice again, into revealing things I didn't want to talk about. He quite gladly passed me a bottle of some strong kind of booze and we sat and drank in silence for a while, except for the splash of the liquid hitting the glass of the bottle as we tipped it up into our mouths. In a moment of drunken stupidity, I showed Chris my arm.

'Maxxie, what the fuck is that man? I'm your brother in every way but fucking blood, and you couldn't tell me about this? You're hurting yourself!' As I thought, he felt like a failure. But he hadn't failed me; I had, because I hadn't trusted him, when he's the most trustworthy person I know. 'I'm sorry, Chris. I didn't mean to fuck up. I never do, but I always do it anyway. Last time this happen, you were pissed out of your mind for three days, and I didn't want that again. Here,' I dug around in my pocket before pulling out some rolling paper and a little bag of weed. 'I've got weed, let's have a joint.'

That's how we spent the next day or so: pissed, crying, and pot smoking. Then we got angry. Decided to take revenge out on that prick after all. 'Well, he did tell me that he was really scared when he was with me, and he begged me not to tell anyone. I know what that's like, but he's a prick and he's always doing it.' Just then, the bastard rang. 'Tony, fuck off, ok? You keep doing it again and again. I don't want to hear it. Fuck you.' I pressed the hang up button with as much anger as it was possible. Then, I got a brilliant idea flicking through the pictures on my phone. I spoke to Chris. 'I've got a plan. Last time this happened, you said I was there that weekend. So was the camera on my phone. Look at these.'

We chose the perfect picture to text around. Me and Tony, barely covered with the sheets from his bed, naked from the waist up, french kissing. I pretended to send the picture to Abigail by accident, but I knew she would spread it around her school and our college in no time. Not only would everyone think Tony was gay, he'd be batting the guys off with sticks. I wasn't the only gay kid at Roundview. When I sent around the picture, I wasn't expecting it to backfire like it did. I knew Tony was a man whore but I didn't know he really was into guys. As in multiple. As in not just me. As in why the fuck did I care?

I asked Chris that, but his only advice was 'Ask 'Chelle.' So I did. 'It's Tony fucking Stonem, Maxxie. He may be a complete arsehole, but when you fall for him, you fall for him hard. Even when you hate his guts...and guess what?' She answered. 'I hate his guts. That's why I sent around that fucking picture, 'Chelle. I thought I could fuck him over the way he did to me.' 'Maxxie, no matter how much you fuck him over, he always comes out on top. Face it, he's nothing but a twat.' 'A twat that I'm in love with.' I later told Chris. He called me an idiot. Rightfully so. I was one. A massive one. But so was Tony! That's what I tried to reason anyway. Chris just sighed, and smiled, and shook his head, but told me to go for it anyway.

On the green the next day, Tony kissed me. Again. He told there'd be no more games this time. He just wanted me, that was all he ever wanted. Then he walked out towards the pub and onto the street and I heard the honk of a horn. They found what might have been a suicide note. I've still got a copy, but I haven't read it yet.

As for my neighbour? Someone tipped off the cops about the stash of kiddie porn he kept lying around...he won't be out of prison for a long, long time. I really don't regret breaking in. Or making the call. In a way, I forgave myself for what happened in that studio.

I told Chris what happened straight after. He told me he wished he'd been there when they nabbed him, but he was glad I told him before somebody else made me, for a change. We took some pills and went out partying that night.

That was a year ago. Me and Anwar are mates again, we've got a shitty little flat in the outskirts of London. Cassie and Sid live between New York and Scotland. Jal went off to music school, Chris, of course, went with her and has a job in a pet store, and Michelle works all over the UK as a model. Effy's doing great at college; we keep in touch. She says of all her brother's lays, I was her favorite. But that's probably about the spliff more than anything else.

There's weekends and weekdays, and sometimes, there's just life.

FIN.


End file.
